Twilight Hours
by Kiru Banzai
Summary: When life in the real world goes sour, sometimes all you have left is a dream. J/S
1. Never Too Late To Be Alone

Notes & Errata: So, you know, Ohtori Academy is not the real world. It's not even close. *This* is the world we know, and these are the people that inhabit it.   
  
----  
Julie was cooking, maybe for the first time ever. The music on the radio was bright and pleasantly old-fashioned, bass guitar and piano moving up and down the scales. Julie hummed and moved her slim hips in time with the singer. She thought about how happy Ori would be to have something other than microwaved ramen for dinner.   
  
She thought about Ori, bouncing through the front door, violet hair fluttering in the breeze from her bone-rattling door slam that would have the neighbors up later, tentatively asking, could they keep it down just a little? Ori yelling a line from a 50's sitcom, tossing an imaginary briefcase against the wall, hanging an imaginary fedora by the door. Ori's shock as Julie came out of the kitchen holding a pot and wearing a frilly apron, playing the housewife a little too well. A little witty banter, Ori congratulating her for finally venturing into the kitchen, Ori kissing her hello.   
  
Ori's lips, a touch redder than her hair and sugar-sweet. Her face turned up to meet Julie, lips parted and ready. The slight indentation in her lower lip which fit Julie better than anyone she'd ever kissed. Ori's tongue, always hesitant at first, growing bolder the longer Julie held her...  
  
She realized the stir-fry was burning. The phone rang, and Julie turned off the radio and tried to simultaneously toss the stir-fry in the loose, casual manner she saw on cooking shows. Peppers and bits of chicken flew everywhere. Ignoring this, Julie picked up the phone and cradled it against her shoulder.   
"Hello?"  
The silence after she hung up seemed suddenly deafening.   
  
It had been a strange call. Someone who said they were from the police, telling her that Ori had been hit by a car while walking home, that Ori was dead.  
  
It wasn't nice to say things like that. It was cruel. She couldn't think about that now, since Ori would be home in just a few minutes. Ori was awfully late today.  
  
Ori was...  
  
Julie dropped the pan and screamed. She fell against the counter and slid to the floor, screaming until her lungs cracked and burned. She lay curled on the kitchen floor, still screaming, though she could no longer make a sound.   
  
The door to the apartment opened tentatively. The neighbor from downstairs peered in and looked worriedly around.  
  
"Are you all right, dear?" 


	2. This Feeling Has No Name

A warm August night. Ori and Julie have put away the leftovers in the picnic basket, and now lie curled together looking up at the stars.   
"That's my favorite one."  
"You have a favorite *star*?"  
"Yes. That one. You see?"  
"Why is that one your favorite?"  
"Mm...because it's the most beautiful, and the brightest, and it makes all the other ones look plain in comparison."  
"Ah. I see."  
"Also, it's got great hair."  
"Oh?"  
"Yes. And compliments my deviled eggs even when it knows they're bad."  
"You know, I think that one's a planet."  
"Whatever."  
"Now, me, I love them all."  
"You're making it hard for me."  
"Hm?"  
"See, when you said which one was your favorite, I was going to go get it and surprise you tomorrow morning. But now I guess I've got to get them all."  
"People will start to wonder, tomorrow night."  
"People can go hang, as long as you have your stars."  
"I love you, Oriole."  
"Love you, Jewel."  
After that, the stars didn't matter anymore. 


	3. Inside The Winding Sheets Are Pale

"How did you know Maryanne, Mr. ...what was it again?" Ori's mother's eyes, neatly lined in black, pierced Mike like a hatpin. He had a moment of confusion, wondering who the hell Maryanne was. People dressed in black circled around them, cawing quietly and picking at shiny objects.   
"Just Mike is fine, Ma'am. She was a friend of a friend." Where the hell is Julie?  
"I see. And you felt it was...appropriate for you to come here?" Her eyes darted from the streaks of blue in Mike's hair to his green nail polish to his red Doc Marten's.  
"I, uh, I just wanted to, uh, pay my respects?"   
The outside door opened with a blast of warm air, like a relief. Julie stood, hands clasped in front of her, looking around uncertainly. Mike watched Ori's mother's eyes narrow as she forgot all about him in the presence of this new threat.   
Julie walked towards the casket.   
Mike loved Julie in a completely platonic way, mostly, and was deeply concerned about her happiness. So when he heard that Ori had been killed, he knew that he had to come to the funeral, to offer support and comfort, to keep Julie from doing something stupid like throwing herself into the coffin, and, last and shockingly least in terms of moral uprightness, to see if she was considering men on the rebound. Probably fortunately for all concerned, he did not let this last fact show. Now, he moved to intercept Julie and Ori's mother at the coffin.   
Even dressed all in black, Julie was a tropical bird to the mourners' crows. Her hair fell in bright copper curls to the waist , and at six foot three she stood a full head taller than any of Ori's relatives. She stopped beside a spray of white flowers and looked down at the body for too long. Then she looked up into the eyes of Ori's mother.   
"What happened to her hair?"  
The older woman's mouth tightened. "I think that you should leave now."  
"She always had such beautiful hair."  
Ori's mother puffed herself up for a long speech. "Listen, you, I don't know exactly who you are, but if you're one of Maryanne's little 'friends' you can just turn right around and leave, missy. We are here to mourn the passing of the good, honest girl my daughter was, whether that passing happened yesterday or five years ago. And I know that where she is now, the last thing she needs is a harlot like you soiling what's left of her reputation!"  
"What?" Julie focused on the other woman's head for the first time.  
"I don't think Maryanne would have wanted you here!"  
Julie's flushed deep crimson. She bared her teeth in an animal snarl and breathed, her hair seeming to rise as it stood on end. Mike saw what was coming and tried to head it off.   
"Julie--don't--"  
It was much too late.  
"Who--who--" Julie screamed at the top of her lungs. "WHO THE *FUCK* IS MARYANNE?" 


	4. The Only One Who Knows Her

*Sunshine Rain by Dada  
  
Julie sat backstage tuning her guitar and breathed. No matter how many times she did this, there was always the feeling that when she got up on the stage she'd panic and run. That the spotlight would get closer and closer until it burned her alive, or that the people would all suddenly see through her pretenses, swarm onto the stage, and tear her to shreds.   
The clapping for the last act began to run down. The previous singer tripped into the wings, breathless and sweating. "Good luck, Jules," she said as Julie rose.   
The stool and mike had already been set up for her. Julie sat down and looked at the floor as she started her act.   
"Um, hi. My name is Julie, and I have a couple songs I'd like to sing for you. This one's called Mary Sunshine Rain.  
  
"Mary won't be comin' round no more  
I won't touch her violet hair that fell like rain and filled the air with roses  
Mary won't be comin' round no more  
She won't look into my eyes and tell me I'm the only one who knows her...  
  
"Mary won't be changin' me no more  
She won't reach into my mind and fill those gutters with red wine and reason  
Mary won't be changin' me no more  
I guess that I knew all along that she'd be leaving with the song of seasons...  
  
"Sunshine rain  
Sunshine rain..."  
  
After two more songs Julie went back to the wings and got the dry heaves. She listened to the last acts of the night before packing up her guitar and getting her coat.   
Waiting by the door to the stage was a young girl with purple hair and a bunch of roses. She wore a black pleated skirt, fishnets, chunky black boots, and a white frilly tank top.   
Julie's first thought was, hey, it's Mary Sunshine.  
Then, oh god, another little punkette with pretensions to acoustic guitar. I don't know why they let them in here.   
Then, who's she waiting for?  
Then, oh god, she's looking at me.   
The girl held out the bouquet and said, "Hi. I brought these for someone special. I guess she's you." 


	5. And The Seven Seas

Julie stepped up to the coffin and looked inside. It was filled with violet roses. "You aren't here," she remarked, and turned around. Ori stood there, her hair dyed brown, dressed in a tasteful suit dress, her eyes gaping sockets streaming blood. A gash across her forehead showed where she had hit the fender.   
"I don't think Maryanne would have wanted you here," said Ori in her mother's voice.  
Julie woke in a cold sweat. 


	6. Sank Into Eden With You

[we slide together like clockwork, like two pieces of a puzzle made to fit exactly together. ori's hands are everywhere all at once. i undo the buttons of her shirt and slip my arms around her waist, pushing her to me. sweet red lips graze my ear, whispering words known only to us two, and then down along my throat. i can feel my pulse beating against her mouth and then she is using her tongue, tracing a warm, wet, shivery line downward and i am lost. my hands against the small of her back and she bites gently, a play bite, and does not stop there but slips lower sweating rubbing against me my hands in her hair as she  
as she  
as  
she  
oh.] 


	7. All You Need Is Love

Even sitting in the darkest shadow of the cafe's colorful umbrellas, with her hair bound tightly against her head and her large green eyes hidden by black glasses, Anise got her share of looks. Men craned their necks as she walked by, and when she sat down next to Mike they glared as if to say, you lucky dog.   
"So...uh...how're you doing?"  
"How do you think?" Anise set her glasses on the tabletop with a sharp click. Dark shadows pooled under her red-rimmed eyes.   
"You haven't been sleeping."  
"No."  
"Have you thought of seeing someone?"  
She gave him all the pain she could fit into a single look. "I was."  
"I meant a doctor."  
"Oh, yes. I should go see someone who'll tell me to forget all about her, prescibe some happy drugs, maybe a little electroshock on the sides, hmm? That'll solve all my problems."  
"Look, Ana, you need--"  
"Don't tell me what I need, Mike. I know what I need."  
A long silence passed between them.   
"I just want to help you." Mike put his hand on the table, close enough that Anise could take it if she wanted.   
Anise remained on the other side of the table, silent, cold as a distant star.   
Just then, a movement at her left caught Anise's eye. There stood a young girl, long dark hair in two plaits, awkwardly pushing her glasses up. "Umm...hi. I was seeing you, from over there, and you looked sad." The girl's lips widened in a sympathetic smile. "So I thought I'd bring you this." She held out a single rose, full and perfect. "Don't be sad. God gives us miracles every day." Her little speech complete, the girl waited with hopeful eyes for Anise's reaction.   
Anise stood and took the rose from the girl's hand. She held it for a moment before dropping it to the ground and crushing it beneath the heel of her boot.   
As the young girl ran off in tears, Mike looked at this girl he had known for so long, and realized that he would probably never know her again. 


	8. Devils Are Dreaming

Julie slipped out of her boots and into bed. She didn't expect to sleep, not really; she had long ago memorized the pattern of the darkened ceiling above her. Then for a while, what seemed to her now a brief instant, she had spent her nights memorizing Ori's curves. And now in a mockery of comfort, here was the ceiling again. _Come crawling back, have you?_ thought Julie.   
  
_Come crawling to me, after all this time. _  
  
The patterns of the tiles seemed to shift.   
  
_Are you missing something?_ A hiss in the darkness. A flicker like eyes.   
  
"Yes." The word was no more than a breath. Something coiled and twisted at the foot of the bed.   
  
_Do you want to see her again?_   
  
"Yes!" She was sitting up now, clutching the sheets to her, half-afraid, half-crazy. A wounded lion.   
  
_What would you do?_   
  
There was only one answer. "Anything."   
  
_Anything?_ The patterns coiled sinuously into a smile. Then, like a wind, it was leaving, spiralling out of the room like a dark wind. _Follow. _  
  
She ran, through what she was sure was not her apartment, through veils and curtains, maddened by the need to keep her guide in sight. Finally they stopped in a room filled with dark wood.   
  
The twisting darkness produced a sheet of paper that sailed into her waiting hands. _Sign._   
  
She didn't even hesitate.   
  
The words on the page faded and blurred, as though viewed through a curtain of tears. She wiped her eyes and read, lines in a strangely familiar script.   
  
"So I don't regret stealing him from you. Because that was what I had hoped for. You must hate the way I am."   
  
The tears began to rise again as Juri clutched her locket and remembered.


End file.
